


♥ SAVE

by Scy1he



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Death, Everyone Fucking Dies, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29797401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scy1he/pseuds/Scy1he
Summary: *You can't save someone who is already dead
Kudos: 9





	♥ SAVE

**Author's Note:**

> A headcanon ending
> 
> TW: Blood, Death

Dream broke out. No one knows how, all they know is that the Dream before them is no longer the reserved and manipulative puppet master everyone sees him as.

He is a monster. The mad man. The villain. The source of evil.

They found him in the ruin of the community house. His hand gripping on a netherite axe, shining in powerful enchantments. Probably a backup axe stored safely in his Ender Chest. However, he doesn’t have any armor. Although he would still be able to put up a fight as long as he has an axe, it probably wouldn’t last long.

Right?

_ Dream is arguably some of the best fighters in the world. Although he carries an axe, a heavy weapon considered by most, he is incredibly agile. In just a blink of an eye, he would be right behind you, slamming his axe causing a fatal blow. _

_ Sapnap remembers a time where the three of them, him, Dream and George would fight the world together. Him and George would always charge headfirst into battles without the worry of an arrow from the back or a sneak attack from the shadow, as they knew there would always be a shield and an axe protecting them. _

_ When has the axe that protected them become the very weapon that is pointing at their necks? _

‘Dream, stand down or we wouldn’t hesitate to kill you right on the spot,’ Sam holds up a crossbow. With one single trigger, an arrow will be going through his head.

Dream slowly turns around, facing all the members of the server. His face stoic, without a trace of fear. It is like his mask. The infamous white porcelain mask with a childish smile.

But it isn’t a mask, it is his face. Hollow of feelings, empty of emotion.

It’s even more unsettling than the mask.

_ Most well-known players have an icon of theirs. Techno’s crown. Philza’s ebony wings. For Dream, it is his mask. _

_ Whenever people see his mask, it would remind them of the competitive and energetic blonde that would laugh at the smallest of things. It would remind them of the powerful protector on the Dream SMP. It is a reassuring thing, reminding them there is always a shield backing them up. _

_ When has that mask become the symbol of evil? _

‘Then do it. I’m the villain after all,’ he laughs. The first emotion he has presented for so long. ‘The heroes teamed up to kill the big bad. They have lived happily ever after. What a story.’

‘Dream, this is the last warning,’ Sam tightens his grip on the crossbow.

He laughs and spreads his arm, an obvious provocation.

An arrow went through his eye socket.

_ Wilbur finally understood Dream. He is no god. He is no protector. Just a man that wanted to protect his friends. A boy who wanted to be the hero for everyone. _

_ He laughed. Suddenly, Dream became a young boy in his eyes. He was no longer the mastermind everyone saw him as. _

_ He led the Greater SMP into war because his friends were forbidden to enter a piece of land that was rightfully his. Because some idiots stole his land in the name of freedom while stealing the freedom of others. The goal was so simple, maintain peace. Yet, he was painted as the puppeteer by Wilbur, the very man who said he wanted freedom and peace. _

_ Wilbur understood now. Now that the country he founded was no longer a place for people to emancipate, but a place for the pursuit of power. Yet, Wilbur could only watch. After all, he had led his country into war, he had sabotaged an election in a country that prided itself on its liberality. He was the one who twisted the meaning, and he should pay the price.  _

_ But he had never paid the price of twisting the role of Dream. _

_ ‘I’m so sorry. Even if I'm in no place to ask, don’t give up. Never stop fighting. Please. You are better than this,’ he hugged Dream one night. Burying Dream in a bone-crushing embrace. Perhaps he just wanted to relieve his guilt. _

Dream is still. He bleeds gold, a symbol of immortality. He pulls the arrow out with an awful sound of flesh being torn. He casually drops the arrow to the side, not giving a mind to the bleeding wound.

‘Come.’

_ The blame game had begun. People pushing their wrongs on others. Making up reasons to avoid the consequences. Some would just push it on others, more specifically Dream, just because he is the villain. _

_ Everyone points their fingers. Twisting words to convince others that they were the victim. And the person who didn’t have someone to back them up would always be in the wrong.  _

_ And Dream is alone. _

_ It’s funny how ‘villain’ and ‘victim’ both started with ‘v’. _

Bloodbath is an understatement.

Dream swings his axe with ease. He fights like a dancer, light and agile. His speed is inhuman. He is just a blur, without a care of getting hurt.

He swiftly slices off Quackity’s head.

‘Last life.’

_ No matter how powerful Dream is, he was just one man. The so-called villain. How could he stop the endless cycle of violence when fighting became second nature? _

_ How could he stop the endless cycle of violence when fighting became the only language they are willing to speak? _

_ He was just one man. Until he wasn’t. _

‘Dream! Stop!’ Sapnap pleads.

He stared into the pair of dull green eyes he once loved so much. Even if Dream is covered in gold and red blood, he still stands firmly on the ground. The axe under his chin was so firm and suffocating.

‘Dream, this isn’t you. I know you are in there! Please!’ he begs.

‘He’s dead,’ Dream replied, venom clear on his tongue. ‘And you killed him.’

_ When have people become just an asset for their side? _

_ When have pets become a tool for bargaining? _

_ When has trust become nothing but a chance for being stabbed in the back? _

_ When have possessions become a chance to be controlled? _

_ ‘He doesn’t care about us.’ _

_ ‘Just say you hate me.’ _

_ ‘You are selfish!’ _

_ ‘You are no god, just a pathetic homeless man!’ _

_ He cared, he loved, he laughed. Until they left him, abandoned him for the fantasy of power. Until his cries unheard. Until he was reduced to nothing but a monster in their eyes. Until he was reduced as a scapegoat for all the crimes. _

‘We didn’t do anything!’ George cries.

‘Don’t pretend to be innocent.‘ Dream pushed his axe into Sapnap’s chest. His body turned into a puff of white smoke, leaving behind his armor and weapons. Dream picked up his axe, duel-wielding two axes. ‘No one is innocent here. You are the very people who created a villain by playing the blame game.’

‘You know what you are doing,’ Dream said, too calmly. He threw his axe landing right into George’s chest. ‘Don’t regret that.’

_ ‘I’m so sorry. Even if I'm in no place to ask, don’t give up. Never stop fighting. Please. You are better than this.’ _

_ Dream couldn’t help but lean into the hug. He is allowed that right? He can be loved right? He can be saved right?  _

In all honesty, Techno is the only one who is able to put up a fight.

However, going against god was never a good idea. Techno knows that, but he fights anyway. Not willing to admit defeat.

It’s a common thing on this server.

The dust has settled. The ground was painted into a scarlet red.

_ But it’s too late. _

_ He gave up a long time ago anyways. _

The ghosts of his friend, no, the ghosts of the members surrounded him. Confusion, sadness, guilt all over their faces.

‘I can resurrect all of you. But you will all be resurrected in another world. A brand new world.’

Not this broken mess. It’s not something to be missed anyways.

‘You can probably bring a few items along, if you want to.’

They shook their heads. This place reminded them of too much pain. Why not start anew.

‘You ready?’

The ghosts nod.

Dream cross his fingers like a prayer. Slowly the ghosts disintegrated into red dust. The sparkles swirl up into the air until they disappear from his sight. 

He finally crumbled. All the tears, all the cries. He can no longer contain them.

He is a broken vase. A vase that has been shattered and repaired, again and again. Just to fit a role given to him. A company, a friend, a protector, a mastermind, a villain, anyone but himself.

Ranboo slowly crept out. He hid from the sideline during that carnage. Clinging onto his last life.

He expected to face a demon, not pieces of a man.

‘Dream…?’

Dream raises his head so fast that he worried if Dream would break his neck.

‘Ranboo?’ He whispered. ‘Why are you here?’

‘Where are they going?’ Ranboo asked instead.

‘..Somewhere far. A new and better world.’

‘What about you?’

‘Someone had to look after this server,’ Dream whispered. He looked over the battered land that he once called home. Vines polluting the land he loved. Gentle wind caresses his golden locks. For once, the world is so peaceful.

‘Are you ready to go then?’ He breathes in shakily. Withholding a sob.

‘Can’t you...come with us?’

‘Do you want me to?’ Dream tilted his head. ‘Even if you do, would they want to?’

‘Please. Just let me pretend to be a good person for once.’ Dream cries softly. Tears slowly slipped down his cheek. He doesn’t bother hiding them anymore.

‘...okay.’ Ranboo nodded. ‘I’m ready.’

Dream picks up a sword nearby. With one last scream, he plunges the sword into his chest.

A pair of arms wrap around him.

Dream looked up in shock. Only to face a warm smile. A genuine smile. A smile he hasn’t seen for a long time.

It’s a hug that is too late to be given. It’s an ounce of kindness so small that it shouldn’t matter.

At least it’s better late than never.

**Author's Note:**

> Is that an Undertale reference?
> 
> This is something I wrote mindlessly within an hour. I think Dream used to care and always wanted to be the good guy. But people had painted him as the villain. This is the residue of all the hatred and cries he had contain.
> 
> You have created a monster. And now the monster has finally accepted his role. 
> 
> Why aren't you happy?


End file.
